Cadmus and the Dragon
by hotmilkytea
Summary: [SAINW] AKA "The 12 Days of SAINWmas"! Twelve festive drabbles set when the times are darkest.
1. 25th December

twelve drabbles, one each for the twelve days of Christmas (25th December - 5th January), set during the SAINW universe.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, please remember that SAINW happened.

(tmnt = viacom)

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part one: 25th December_

* * *

At twenty-two hundred hours, Leo takes over the watch from Angel, arming up with his swords on his shell and the new, unfamiliar assault rifle strapped to his leg. The lair has come too close for comfort in the past few months. They're all on alert. One brother missing is already too many, so overnight, Raph and Casey take the outer tunnels, and Leo defends the homestead.

"C'mon, Mikey. It's late."

Christmas is Mikey's favourite day of the year (birthdays excepted) - goodwill infects him, and so every December he glows with the season and cheer and the eggnog April sneaks down with their groceries with a sly note and a wink when she drops by.

But _this_ year...

Leo sighs.

The mask had cracked. On all of them, but especially Mikey.

Once he got off his watch (even armed to the teeth, he was still patrolling with a set of felt antlers on his head), Mikey flopped in front of the TV to do nothing except watch their old worn-out VHS of _Die Hard_ with his face mushed into his left hand. "Hey," Leo says softly, and chucks Mikey's shoulder with a knuckle. "You in there?"

"Mm."

"You okay?"

"...yeah."

Mikey looks like he's grown up way too fast in the past three months.

In truth, they all have - they're supposed to be teenagers, but then, three years ago Leo wouldn't have expected them to have gone through the things they have done since they were first let out of the sewer. Hate follows them like a shade, creeping through the shadows they were supposed to own, and they'd risen above it all... until now.

Mikey looks tired, defeated, _sad_.

Because four are now three, and they don't know how long it's going to be before three become two, or worse.

The whole world has changed, their solid foundations have been shaken.

"I just," Mikey says, then trails off, his gaze drifting from the TV to the tree. Leo follows it; there are more gifts beneath it than there should be on Christmas Day night. "I thought we'd find him by now," he says eventually.

"Yeah," Leo says, tired. "I know."

* * *

 _on the first day of Christmas... A Mikey Sad His Brother's Missing..._


	2. 26th December

I hope you all had a great Christmas!

on with the sadness!

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part two: 26th December_

* * *

"I thought she'd change this time."

"Yeah. This time," Raph echoes. It's always _this time_. One day, Leo's gonna find himself on the wrong end of a blade, still thinking Karai will change while he bleeds out his last.

Hell, this time he cut it close. Raph's spent the better part of his Christmas stitching up a long ugly slash along Leo's leg that cut too close to an artery for comfort, and pulling out a dagger that was slammed through the softer, paler scar-tissue that covered the last chunk of shell Karai had cut out.

One day, the last thing Leo's gonna see is Karai coming for him, and he's gonna be stupid, and give her _another goddamn chance_.

"I just–"

"Ahhh," Raph interrupts, threading through the final stitch. "I don't care, Leo. What I care about's that we almost went two down today. How's that?" he asks, to change the subject.

Because Raph's not stupid.

Every time. _Every time_ , Leo's going to try. Because he can see 'something good' in Karai that the other three – two – never could, and that's Leo's problem, and always will be. Leo believes too much in the good in the world, in justice and honour, and doesn't seem to get that the world's a piece of shit sometimes, and he's the best example - that a guy as good and honourable as Leo could fall in love with something like Karai.

"Not pretty," Leo says, tacking his finger along the fresh run of stitches on his thigh. "but they'll hold."

* * *

 _on the second day of Christmas... Two Brothers Bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	3. 27th December

onward we go

these all take place at progressively later timestamps in the SAINW universe. this is approximately two years after Don's disappearance.

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part three: 27th December_

* * *

The soft _tmp, tmp_ of Splinter's cane is impossibly loud in the silence, and April jerks awake. "How is he?" she slurs. "'s'he okay?"

In Splinter's spare hand is a small plastic bag; through the material, stark red shines through, and Splinter hasn't had time to wash his hands yet - they're bloody as well, in the glow of the lights from the tree. Splinter ignores her, and heads towards the kitchen. The boiler flares on while he washes his paws with hot water, and April waits.

It's not the first time one of them has been injured. It's not the first time the injuries have been so severe. It is, however, the first time since it happened that they've faced the very real possibility of losing another.

 _Mikey's hands slipping as he tried to stop the bleeding, his eyes rolling back from blood-loss; the grim look on Raph's face as they headed back out to clean up the slick trail left through the tunnels as they'd carried him home, before anybody else found it; Casey, too, looking lost and out of sorts because this was supposed to be a quick easy job, in and out._

 _The quiet, gathering storm around Leonardo's shoulders - blame and anger, fury and failure, turning inward._

"We wait, Miss O'Neil." Splinter settles into his seat, still clutching his stick. "But I am confident he will wake soon."

"And his–"

"–it will scar, but as it is Michelangelo, no doubt he will find this funny once it has healed."

* * *

 _on the third day of Christmas... 3am Vigils  
two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	4. 28th December

set before, and after, Casey's death.

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part four: 28th December_

* * *

The old superstition with mistletoe is that for each kiss, you steal a berry.

Casey was never exactly the most delicate, romantic of men, but April knew that he (by way of his mother) had always had some respect for the old traditions. So when he'd found some, he'd covered the base in it overnight, hiding it in plain sight. Hiding it _everywhere_.

But April has gotten wise to Casey's games, and manages to do a fairly good job of avoiding it all until her 1700 hour briefing with Leo.

Briefing is a fancy way of saying _standing in the kitchenette drinking tea_ , but they discuss the last mission, swap ideas for new ones, and come up with a united front ahead of the next all-resistance meeting.

"Hey, Leo! Don't you be trying anything funny!" Casey smirks from the doorway. April realises first, glances up, and lets out an exasperated sigh.

Leo follows her gaze and looks mortified.

"Sorry, Leo. But it's bad luck if we don't." She reaches up and pinches off a berry with her smaller, delicate fingers, and passes it to him. "And I think we need all the good luck we can get."

"Sorry for imposing," Leonardo shifts in a way that reminds April that he's only just hit twenty, and in some ways he's still forever fifteen.

So April kisses him firmly on the top of his head.

"You, Mister, are _never_ imposing." Casey makes a small noise of fake-jealous protest, and April rolls her eyes, dragging him closer for his own kiss. "And you are _always_ imposing. Where did you find all of this stuff?" she asks, as Leo slinks away to heat the furnaces with his face.

"Park." He slings his arm around her and presses a soppy kiss into her cheek.

"The park. Right." She slides him a sceptical look, and Casey avoids her gaze. Park means _black market_ , means _Casey called in a favour_ \- or now owes one.

"Besides," he says proudly, and steers her around to get a good look of the base's main room through the kitchen door. Even in the few seconds she's looking, someone sighs, someone else yells _Jones!_ , but there is a hug, and a soft kiss, and affection. "I think we all needed this."

He says it with rare poignancy - one of the things that sold her on the whole _Casey Jones Has Hidden Depths_ theory, that amid his obsession with sweatpants and very, _very_ hypermasculine tendencies (she wondered, in the early days, about him and Raph, and still teases him about it sometimes), Casey wasn't the complete neanderthal he portrayed.

War goes on, but it can't consume them. Life, and love, have to go on as well.

* * *

Casey is killed in the summer, his throat torn out and his skull caved in, and April is a wreck.

She didn't expect to be a widow before she hit thirty, but she forces herself on, tight-lipped and straight-faced and she only cries alone.

Mikey shooes Klunk into their room on the worst nights, and Angel takes over more of Casey's old duties, including negotiations.

She drinks with Raph once a week, they grieve together, they reminisce for their lost one, and it starts to feel less like she's lost her arm and more that he's just… not there. Like she walks into an empty room after hearing a voice.

* * *

In December, Angel drops by her office. "You got a visitor."

Abdul is one of Casey's old contacts from when New York wasn't under occupation. He'd been a cab driver, back then, knew everybody who was necessary to know, knew where to get anything and sell everything. April had met him a few times, but once the occupation happened, Casey had taken over a lot of the messier dealings. "Delivery for Mr. Jones," he says, with a wry smile, and the knife in April's chest twists, because _oh Casey_. "There isn't a lot. This is all we could find. I don't think we'll have any next year."

He pushes a small box into April's arms, full with bright sprigs of holly, and four sprigs of mistletoe.

"No," April hears herself saying. "No, Casey's gone." It feels like she's speaking from beyond a veil, surreal and dreamlike. Angel's face twists in alarm and she hurriedly shooes Abdul out, closing the door behind them.

* * *

 _on the fourth day of Christmas... Four Tiny Branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	5. 29th December

hey remember when shredder turned all of new york into a work camp?

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part five: 29th December_

* * *

After the first blast, debris falls like snow, little pieces of brick and paper and glass, and, undeterred, Karai's voice rings across Times Square: "Your master is merciful. Rest so that you may complete your tasks tomorrow."

"Nice of him to give a day off. What is that, once every year?" Raph snarks, scowling.

"We got his birthday off, too," Angel replies, setting the next round of charges. "Least, we did when I was stuck in there."

It had been insidious. Angel got herself into trouble once - _once_! - and ended up in juvie. Except then juvie became _corrective detainment_ , became _work placement_ , became hauling Shredder's fancy new toys around. She'd gotten a message out and they'd found her, half-starved, and jailbroke her with the rest of her unit - all kids. Casey had barely let her out of his sight after that; now that he was gone, Raph took over.

They were a pretty good team, if he did say so himself.

"Yeah I'd celebrate too. 'nother year before he's dead. Oh, wait."

Shredder is going to be alive until the whole planet dies.

"Better than the five minutes you get for lunch." Angel huffs, pulling the detonator out of her pocket, and nods forward. "See those Karai Legions? Soon as they turn, we run."

* * *

 _on the fifth day of Christmas... Five Minute Breaks  
four tiny branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	6. 30th December

because i like to think Mikey took a long time before his joy died out.

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part six: 30th December_

* * *

The kitchen reeks of sugar and spices.

"Okay, I'll bite. Where the hell did you get all of this stuff?" Angel asks, and Mikey beams, dragging a finger into the nearest bowl and pulling out a dollop of cookie-dough.

"Park," he says, dancing around a bag of flour.

Angel winces, then pinches some of the proffered dough off. "Abdul and your MREs," she corrects.

"Those aren't rations, those are _torture_. He probably had better use for 'em. Like force-feeding Karai until she chokes."

A few years ago, Mikey would have said _until she hurls_.

Explodes.

Something.

Mikey's growing up. _Good_ , she thinks. He'll need to.

* * *

 _on the sixth day of Christmas... Six Pounds Of Cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	7. 31st December

because friends still matter when they're dead

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part seven: 31st December_

* * *

The cemetery's freezing, way below the type of temperature where he should be outside on most nights, but Raph's never been the type of guy to bail when it comes to a drink with a friend on New Year's. Even if that friend's six feet under.

Well. Maybe two feet. They didn't really have the time to dig real graves when they were hunted day and night, and so Casey's grave is small - by the time he died, it was difficult for anything to get off of Manhattan, never mind up to Massachusetts. Raph checks for cover, makes sure it's safe, and cracks open two beers.

(That's the thing about New York. 1920s, 2020s, there's always a simmering prohibition spirit. You can't stop the city, at least not yet.)

Raph chuckles, long and low as he tips up one bottle onto the flat grass over Casey's grave. The beer fizzes up as it hits, then soaks into the soil, Casey's first drink since his birthday in the summer. "Thirsty, huh. Yeah, me too." He sinks a mouthful of his own and winces. Just because there's still alcohol doesn't mean it's _good_ alcohol. "April's fine. Getting better. Angel too, it's like she doesn't even notice it's gone, now."

Mikey, though. Mikey still notices. Still wakes up screaming, some nights.

Raph doesn't tell Casey this.

"Everyone else's fine, too. Won't be long before this whole thing is over. Leo says he's got a plan."

* * *

 _on the seventh day of Christmas... Seven Bottles Breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	8. 1st January

happy new year to all; may the next twelve months be filled with laughter, joy and love!

i give you the reason this fic has the name that it does

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part eight: 1st January_

* * *

 _South Street Seaport_

A wind has blown in from the Atlantic, racing over what's left of Long Island and battering Manhattan.

It pushes hard at the smokestacks and dirt in the air, shoving it towards Jersey, and leaves patches of the night chilly and clear. Angel stubs her cigarette out on the back of her leather glove and shoulders her rifle again. "Hey. You ready?"

Raph shrugs, squinting up at the sky with his good eye. He can just about make out the beginning of a long rope of stars.

"We're moving out. You got thirty seconds, old man."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin', you brat."

* * *

 _Central Park_

The first eye is a lost cause. The second… April is positive, and hopeful, but Leo's not. The infection is getting worse.

Before it goes for good, Leo heads to what's left of the park - overgrown, unkempt and perfect for blindness training. He switches his bandana around so that the patched eye covers his remaining sight, draws his sword and breathes - there is wind, there are branches, there isn't time.

April had said something about the stars being visible tonight, and heading up with Mikey to see them, but there _isn't enough time_.

* * *

 _Resistance Base Henry-1_

"You brought popcorn?"

"You _didn't_? I thought we were friends, April!"

It's a little flat, but it's been a rough six months - they were lucky to get out of it with what they had. There had been a long moment when it looked like what took out Raph's eye would take out the rest of him, and Leo's infection still came and went in waves. But all in all, it wasn't the worst year they'd lived through. If every year was like this…

"You're not supposed to keep trading your rations away for snack food, Mikey. How old even _is_ that?"

"It's a challenge!"

April huffs, and leans into the half-hug he slings around her shoulders. "You're not getting out of your watch tomorrow if your stomach hurts."

Michelangelo rolls his eyes and pats his belly. " _Iron_." He steers her out of the base and up through the hidden exit that leads to an alley with a clear view down towards the sea. The patchy cloud is starting to come back stronger, but there's still light from the half-moon.

Mikey shifts against her. "Remember the last time we went up to the farm?" he asks delicately. It had been the last summer, before everything went to shit.

"Yeah," April says, catching sight of a loop of stars in a break in the clouds.

* * *

 _Chrysler Building, 49th floor_

The windows are blacked out.

The sedative gas has started to wear off.

* * *

 _Northampton, MA - fifteen years ago_

"…see it? And, so if you look just over there and to the left, that's Draco."

Leo's head jerks up. " _Drako_?"

Donatello smiles patiently, fondly. "The constellation. Not the Battle Nexus guy. You see the big long tail?" He reaches up and his hand traces a long slow line in the air, pointing out the tail, the curve of the dragon's body, and finally the loop of its head. "In ancient legend, Draco was a dragon slain by Hercules when completing his twelve labours. Or, and this one's my personal favourite, the dragon was slain by Cadmus."

Raph frowned. "Cad-whut?"

"So, Cadmus was the brother of Europa, who was kidnapped by the god Zeus, who had quite a habit of doing this - kidnapping young girls, I mean. Cadmus was sent to find her and bring her home. He wandered the whole world, but he could never find her. His father said that he would never be allowed home without his sister, and so he went to an oracle to ask where, then, he should make his home. He found a place with the oracle's help, but there was a dragon there that killed some of his men. Cadmus went in, killed the dragon, and founded the city of Thebes."

"Wait, wait," Mikey interrupted. "He just gave up? He never found his sister?"

"Not in the myths I've read, though mythology's not really my thing." Don hummed thoughtfully. "If they did meet again, it wasn't until the afterlife."

* * *

 _on the eighth day of Christmas... Eight Eyes on Starlight  
seven bottles breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	9. 2nd January

set after leo and raph finally fell out for good

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part nine: 2nd January_

* * *

He knows that Mikey's behind him as easily as he knows that air is for breathing. Still, it's muted, subdued.

Leo can guess why.

"You know, April kept a plate for you and everything." Two steps forward; Mikey's foot slides a little to the left. There's a shift in sound when he puts his hand on his hip. "Didn't wanna join the family?" he asks, bitterly.

 _Join…?_

Leonardo's hand feels carefully back towards the tree he'd brushed past as he'd walked in. "But—"

"Yeah. The tree stays up til January 5th. Bad luck otherwise. God knows we don't need more of that."

Swallowing, Leo pulls his hand back. "So what day is it?"

"According to the calendar, January 2nd. You're late, big brother."

"Oh." His timekeeping's slipping. The stars don't move and the moon doesn't rise in his night. He swallows the shame, but it catches in his throat, burning down into his chest. "I, uh." Leo digs his hands into the big pockets of his coat, pulling out two handfuls of tiny little things. It's not much, but it's what he can find that doesn't feel like a trap. "I know they're not much. And late. But…" His hands hover, and Mikey sighs.

"Two steps right, a quarter-turn."

Leo nods, follows, and drops the little things on the table.

"Are you gonna wait for April to get up?"

"No. I'm gonna head now before the shift change."

Mikey wants his brother to come home. Mike wants Leonardo to stop being such a _dick_. Leo knows this, and he has to force himself not to care. He lost that privilege a long time ago. "You don't have to go," Mikey says.

"And I don't _have_ to _stay_ ," Leo snipes back. "I know what you're trying to do, Mikey. Give it up."

Michelangelo bristles; Leo can hear it - the rise of his arms making his pads run along his shell, the irritated intake of breath through his nose. "Stop calling me that," Mikey snaps. "I'm not a kid anymore. You know, Leo, sometimes _shit happens_. Donnie is _gone_. Master Splinter is _gone_. Casey is gone, half the resistance is _gone_ and unless you joined the freaking _Foot_ , it's not your fault." A step forward. "You didn't fail us. But you will if you _leave_."

Leo's heard this before. From Mikey, from April, from this one time Angel tracked him down and tried to nail him with a right-hook. He shakes his head and turns his back. "We've been over this. I can't stay here. Tell April to contact me if she needs me."

* * *

 _on the ninth day of Christmas... Nine Tiny Trinkets  
eight eyes on starlight  
seven bottles breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
_ _3am vigils  
_ _two brothers bonding, and  
_ _a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	10. 3rd January

almost endgame

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part ten: 3rd January_

* * *

April cuts her off after the fifth shot. "I don't need another dying today," she says sharply.

"My liver," Angel snaps, but lets April take the bottle anyway. "My fault."

"No—"

" _Yes_. Should've seen it coming," she shoots back. "Should've—"

April just sighs, reaching a worn hand out to tangle in Angel's mess of hair. Angel's been pulling at it for the past hour, as one by one, the commandos she managed to drag back to the base with Raph bled out onto the floor, the others back at the ambush spot in the pieces they were left in. "Yeah," April agrees. "You should have."

* * *

 _on the tenth day of Christmas... Ten Dead Commandos  
nine tiny trinkets  
eight eyes on starlight  
seven bottles breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
3am vigils  
two brothers bonding, and  
a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	11. 4th January

the night before SAINW happened

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part eleven: 4th January_

* * *

Raphael makes them both tea.

For the first time in twenty years.

That alone is enough to put Leo's guard up. Raph even makes sure to put the tea within reach and with the mug handle facing towards him, too, and then he waits for Leo to start talking.

"That's not our Don," Leo says quietly, eventually. If it wasn't for the shades, Raph's pretty sure that Leo would have the same expression he used to have when they were kids, staring blankly into his tea while he worked through whatever it was bugging him. "He told me about about the Daimyo's son attacking the lair - we never encountered anything like that before he—"

Raph snorts, but doesn't argue. He drinks his own tea, wincing as it scalds his throat. "So what do we do with him?"

Leo sips his own tea - it's oversteeped, but for once it's not through spite. "I guess we try to figure out how to send him home," he says slowly, his mouth curving into a rare, crooked smile. "If he's anything like our Don, it'll be easy."

"Yeah. Best he go home before the same shit happens to his world."

"Mm." Leo looks up - an inch or two in the wrong direction. "Raph— when this is done, maybe you, me, Mikey—"

Raph sighs, shakes his head. "I'm gonna go to bed," he says, kicking his stool back and pushing away from the table.

It's too late for apologies now.

They're too old to make nice.

Best they can do is get tomorrow over with, and go from there.

* * *

 _on the eleventh day of Christmas... Eleventh Hour Meetings  
ten dead commandos  
nine tiny trinkets  
eight eyes on starlight  
seven bottles breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
3am vigils  
two brothers bonding, and  
a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._


	12. 5th January

some years later

* * *

 **Cadmus and the Dragon**  
 _part twelve: 5th January_

* * *

"Look what I found!"

Don smiles, his hands full of an old plastic storage box overflowing with newspaper-wrapped ornaments. The paper is mildewed and nasty, and as April approaches him, it _stinks_.

But there's a glistening of gold and emerald in there that sends April back almost a lifetime.

"You found tree ornaments?!"

"Mmhm." As he shuffles into the main room of the base (Don always shuffles, his shoulders haven't quite worked themselves out of the hunch of _don't look at me, don't come in here, don't come near me, don't touch me, please don't, just_ don't _, just_ stop), he sets the box on April's desk, on top of scribbled notes of rebuilding plans and the survivor census. "It's not much, but it's enough to maybe decorate one tree next year. I found it in Mikey's things," he adds.

April pulls back the hand that she'd reached out to the box. "Oh Mikey…"

Don's smile fades to something sad, something a little lost, because Mikey was his brother, but after thirty years missing, he'd missed too much. "Yeah," he says instead gently, flicking at a set of felt antlers. "Mikey always was the packrat. Worse than me, in fact. This is his favourite time of year... at least, it _was_."

April rests her hand on Don's arm instead. He flinches, the way he always does now, and then relaxes when he registers warm skin instead of whatever it was he'd gotten used to. "I have an idea," she says. "Let's take this stuff to the park."

* * *

Mikey gets the most of the decorations, though each stake in the ground is wrapped in tinsel and baubles. The sixth stake had been pulled up months ago, and in its place April builds a tiny campfire that sets the shiny things glimmering in the dark.

Donatello fidgets, and it takes him a long time to settle - fire, and light, attracts unwanted attention. It always has. Even with the heat of the flames, he shifts; the tracks on his arms have been covered up by long strips of leather torn from Leo's old coat, and it's become a nervous habit of his to fiddle with them, worming his thumb under the wraps until April reaches over and gently makes him stop. "I, ah. It's bad luck," he says eventually. "If we leave decorations up past twelfth night."

"We'll take them down when we head back."

For obvious reasons, not just superstition. The little graveyard is private, quiet, and just because the world's beginning anew doesn't mean that old habits have died yet. Maybe not now, maybe in fifty years, but science marches on, and graves stand still.

April doesn't say this to Donatello, though, because he already knows.

"How do you know it's twelfth night?" April asks. Neither of them have made the effort to move, preferring to stay in the companionable silence that's grown up around the park. "Our calendars are pretty rusty."

"Oh, you can tell," Donatello replies, raising a hand and pointing to the sky. The pollution has started to clear in the past few months, and New York hasn't recovered enough to start lighting up at night. The night shimmers above, an ocean of galaxies and cold little lights. "See that?" He points at a small rope of stars that mark out a dragon's tail. "That's how. Because..."

It could be so easy to close her eyes and go back thirty years, all of them sitting on the farm, Donatello quietly pointing out pieces of the skies that they could never see in New York City.

His words are slower now, more deliberate. It takes Donatello effort to put his sentences together, sometimes; his genius is not dimmed, but blocked, by ghosts and horrors and nightmares.

His voice is lower, too.

And if it hitches occasionally, or his eyes glitter as he talks, April makes no comment.

They let the fire die.

* * *

 _on the twelfth day of Christmas... twelve nights in winter  
eleventh hour meetings  
ten dead commandos  
nine tiny trinkets  
eight eyes on starlight  
seven bottles breaking  
six pounds of cookies  
five minute breaks  
four tiny branches  
3am vigils  
two brothers bonding, and  
a Mikey sad his brother's missing..._

* * *

 **happy new year**


End file.
